Welcome to Vilnius...

New city, new apartment, new team. It’s all a very familiar experience for me, except of course it isn’t. I’m once again staring at menus a little too long, roaming through grocery aisles trying to get something simple like decaf coffee or cartons of things dairy and white, unsure as to its contents and hoping its anything but mayonnaise. I’m wandering streets with the express interest of getting lost and learning from it, holding my map up and trying not to look too confused, turning corners with the anticipation of something breathtaking.

The math section of my brain is reawakening as I fumble on simple algebra and exchange rates, not entirely clear how much I am paying or exactly what I am paying for but thankful I can eat all but three things. So I take my time at the store, fascinated by the different packaging of things like milk or gum, and on the lookout for anything resembling liver, mayonnaise or bologna.

My very limited linguistics skills are flowing out of my brain in unmanageable ways, like an overstuffed locker. I’m trying to learn new words of course, choking over new tongue movements and uncontrollably responding to questions with a ‘yes’ in Slovakian, followed by a ‘yes’ in Spanish, followed by a ‘yes’ in Japanese, the latter having absolutely no excuse for even being in my brain. In my tangled web of languages, I’m hoping at some point the synapses I need strengthen, while the others get stored back in whatever brain cabinetry they came from.

The doctor’s office was what I’ve come to expect. Lots of gesturing in my general direction, some pointing, and dialogue that sounds like yelling but probably wasn’t. I’m used to people talking about my health without my permission or even my interest. Instead I gaze out the window, or act like I’m listening but really am mulling over the doctor’s decision this morning to put on snake skin high heeled boots; sometimes I even pretend they are talking about something totally incongruous like how best to cook a chicken or why peanut butter has never caught on in Europe, while they point at my ankle or I get my abdomen felt up. For once, my clothes stayed on but probably only because it was a female doctor.

Usually I start paying attention at the end, when heads are nodding much more rapidly and with more enthusiasm than usual and words that I guess to translate as ‘sure’ and ‘okay’ seem to be falling out of mouths with regularity. Then I ask when I can play or if I have to have any blood work done or if rubber gloves will be put on for any reason or if anything resembling a dildo camera is going to be within thirty feet of me.

I slept thirteen hours the first night and struggled to get up at noon. Tonight I’m awake at three in the morning eating cheese sandwiches and writing. Even this feels familiar. Same experience, different season. I can’t believe this is my fifth year abroad. The only thing I’ve really learned about jet lag is that coffee helps. Such deep insight.

I got on a flight Friday evening in Seattle and settled into an aisle seat next to a 20 year old Lithuanian of whom I immediately started exploiting for language lessons. After it was clear I wouldn’t be fluent anytime soon, I started watching a movie and icing my sore ankle. The remainder of the flight was spent contorting my body into a one legged, inverted, downward dog pose, knowing my fat ankle would thank me but my hamstring would not. I somehow fell asleep, watched a movie, had breakfast, and descended on Copenhagen. Its amazing how easy 15 hours of travel can be. One can get used to anything.

My manager was waiting for me in Vilnius Saturday evening, as I walked out of the baggage claim area, trying not to limp too noticeably on my newly sprained ankle, looking hopeful and confused, never quite sure if someone will really be there. From that point on, life has been very good.

Martynas drove me to my apartment where the team’s sports marketing director was waiting with ice and ice bags and wraps. A dozen roses and a food basket wouldn’t have been so welcome or so thoughtful. The men wrestled my body bag sized suitcases up the stairs despite my attempt to help, and into the normal sized elevator. I couldn’t believe the size. Fancy hotels notwithstanding, the elevators I’ve seen in Europe are generally phone booth sized and can fit only four people crammed together. If you up to five people, everyone has to be drunk and at least one has to flatten herself up against the back mirror. Even then the elevator gets stuck between floors and you have to have the Greek fire department come and bail you out. So I’ve heard.

Anyway, my apartment is nothing short of beautiful. The wireless internet was set up ahead of time, I have three televisions, one of which is a flat screen television with satellite, and there is a microwave, dishwasher, a towel warmer and a two in one washer and dryer, the kind of things I thought were only rolled out for men’s players. I’ve never lived like this. I have two huge bedrooms and closets that could double as extra beds. My shower is all glass and could fit a small family. I’m swimming in this place. It makes my other apartments look like one step away from camping.

I feel like I should put the extra bedroom to good use to ease my guilt. A couple ideas include an art room, a gift-wrapping room, or a yoga room but with the big mirrors I might make it into a space devoted to making fun of Sarah Palin. With three tv.s and BBC and CNN, I've got plenty of material. Unfortunately, the room will probably go to something mundane like a place for my laundry and hopefully lots of guests. The whole place is very Euro chic, everything is new and clean and compact, including the parking garage where I pretend I’m driving a golf cart but it’s really a Volkswagen named golf.

The best part of my apartment though is the location. It’s two blocks from the main street in downtown Vilnius and a five-minute walk from the historic old town. I went exploring today and was not disappointed. The old town is a UN world heritage site, a very prestigious honor that means everything is protected from development and all the historic building are restored to their original façade. It’s beautiful with huge gothic churches and baroque architecture housing pubs and cafes and chic shops. I got completely turned around as I made my way through winding cobblestone streets and large cathedral squares. One gets lost in the labyrinth pretty easily and eagerly; I like to play a little game where I take multiple left turns, get completely turned around and then congratulate myself when I finally find something that looks familiar. Its fun to have goals that are not only open ended but reward you with eye candy the worse you do. Like most European cities, streets here were not engineered on a grid and whether its true they did that on purpose to confuse the enemy or they had just drank too much vodka, its certainly believable.

More soon. Its been an interesting week...

Lw

P.S. On the right is some links for my team Teo Vilnius. My photos aren't uploading but i'll post some pics soon I hope.